Loose Ends – E.5 | Pale

“As for omens?  Next slide?”

Lucy hit a key.

“Hmmm, I had the order different in the folder,” Jessica said, frowning.

“I think it reverted to alphabetical order when I uploaded it,” Lucy replied.

Jessica walked over, looking over Lucy’s shoulder.  “Forward two?  There.”

The antiquated slide projector settled on the image.  The faces of everyone gathered in the space were illuminated solely by that light bouncing off the wall.  About ten Aware, four Belanger kids, Gillian, Nicolette, Bea Wint and Dom Driscoll, Kass Knox, Sheridan and Raquel, McCauleigh, Verona, Avery, two of the hosts, and a few scattered foundlings and Denizens, Ghostwriter and Shitpants included.  Matthew stood at the back corner, behind the two hosts.

Those were just the humans.  A couple of curious goblins sat on windowsills, one sat on the far side of the fan in the window, periodically sticking their tongue into it, and Alpeana was perched at the rear of the classroom, where two walls met ceiling, furthest from the light of the projector, above Matthew.  A bit surly, with how light it was outside.

It was autumn outside, but even with the temperature having sharply cooled off this past week, there were enough people packed into things here that it felt warm, even with windows open and fan blowing.  The old projector might’ve been part of that.  Four different adapters had been chained together between Lucy’s laptop and the piece of machinery.

The image that projector was putting on the wall was of an omen, a large man-shaped shadow, with eyes visible in the smoky silhouette.

“Omens are a common threat.  They range in size from a small bird to a mountain, but most are the size of a small, underweight adult.  They lurk, looking for a chance to essentially mug people,” Jessica said.  “Staying calm is key.  The first problems you’re going to run into?  This isn’t a metaphorical mugging on a calm night in nice lighting where you have your head straight.  Echoes and wraiths around them will mess up your emotions, putting you off balance.  If you’re in the Ruins, the Ruins take away visibility, take away your ability to assess your surroundings.”

Shitpants raised his hand.

“Yes?” Jessica asked.

“The image is moving.”

Jessica looked.

It wasn’t moving a lot, but just when Lucy was about to look away and down at the computer, she caught a glimpse of a twitch, the image of the body still frozen, the head of the photographed wraith jittering, turning to look her way.

“Yep,” Jessica said.  “They do that.”

“Okay, um, why?” Verona asked.

Jessica had come prepared with notes.  She’d made it very clear she wasn’t a teacher and didn’t excel at this.  She seemed to appreciate interruptions and questions.  As if she’d rather a discussion over a classroom like this.

“They’re immaterial,” Jessica said.  “Spirits and strong echoes can do that too.  When you represent them in images, recordings.  When you photograph a spirit, you’re photographing the concept.  Most of the time, they’ll either ruin the camera, burn up or spoil the image, or move into the camera and photo where they’re semi-bound.  In this case it was a very good camera.  Holds up.”

“From Zed?” Lucy asked.

“Yep.”

Lucy nodded.

“Echoes are imprints of memories with emotional impression.  That gets impressed into the photo.  Omens, please disagree with me if you know better, have always felt to me like they’re echoes that haven’t happened yet.  If echoes are waves, then omens are the temporary dips in the water that was removed or moved to form those waves.  That too can be impressed into a photo.”

“Sounds like it could lead to technomancy,” Verona said.  “If it was impressed into something more active and interactive.

“Zed mentioned that to me once,” Jessica said.  “I haven’t run into it yet.”

“So it happens but it’s rare?”

“Sounds about right,” Jessica said.  “Omens seem to want to zero themselves out.  They’re a payload of consequence and by passing that consequence onto you, they extinguish themselves- if it pays off, there’s an echo.  The dip in the metaphorical waters reverses course and splashes up.  That passing of consequences is the mugging I mentioned earlier.”

Lucy nodded to herself as she followed along.

“You guys know the usual responses for echoes and wraiths.  Or these guys will probably tell you,” Jessica said, indicating Lucy, who was up front and off to the side with the laptop and cords.  “A lot of those work against omens.”

Lucy nodded more emphatically, still scanning the pictures with her eyes, so she could pick out what Jessica might still want to go to.

“When it comes to omens, if you think about them as that void or vacuum the Ruins want to fill back in, looking for a big dramatic, emotional thing it can make happen, disrupting that with emotional output or turmoil disrupts them, throws them off.  It can mean being very emotional, and it can mean being a rock that diverts them away.”

“Um,” Shitpants interrupted.

Lucy looked up, then followed Shitpants’ gaze to the now-restless image.

“He’s getting more active,” Shitpants said, agitated.

“Change the slide?” Jessica asked.

They were at the end, so Lucy went back to one of the ones Jessica had skipped.  For good measure, she minimized the window so it wasn’t displayed on the laptop, either.

“Bright light, loud noise, acts of defiance,” Jessica said.  “Screaming, silly as it sounds, can work very well.  Works against wraiths, too.  Destabilizes, like we talked about, taking that too-large bit of prey in the spider’s web, knocking it out of place, so the web has to catch it again… or crumble.  Just make sure you’re not matching the wraith’s emotion when you’re screaming or defying it.  Don’t match the omen’s situation- if it’s an omen of fear, don’t give it a scream fueled by fear.”

“What happens if you do?” Shitpants asked.

“It comes at you harder, fast, feeding on what you’re giving it,” Jessica said.  “I’ll talk about that more tomorrow, summon a wraith, if that’s still the plan?”

“Yep,” Lucy said.

Jessica folded her arms, looking at the slide, which wasn’t the right slide anymore, thinking.

“It might take a few tries before you get the hang of it.  Defiant screaming.  Next segment?” Jessica asked.  “How much time do we have?”

“I think a bunch of our Aware have a dance practice?” Verona spoke up.  Mia raised a hand.  McCauleigh, beside her, nodded.

“Yeah, and I’ve got to run too, but I’ll be back tonight.  Up to you guys,” Avery said.

“Five or ten minutes?” Mia suggested.

“We can be later,” McCauleigh said.  “If we’re all late together what can the teacher do?”

“Sharon might burst a vein in her neck,” Hailey said.

“Careful, truthiness,” Verona said.

Says you, Lucy thought, smiling a bit, as Hailey said, “Whoops.”

Hailey was only Aware, and newly Aware at that, but they were trying to instill good habits in case any graduated to practitioner-dom.

“Plus if it’s me that’s late, I can picture her deciding being late is fashionable, all of a sudden,” McCauleigh said.  “She loves me because I kick so much ass.”

“True,” Mia said.

“This is a responsibility that must not be abused,” Avery said, sagely.

“Any questions or thoughts before I change subjects?” Jessica asked, in a tone that Lucy could empathize with.  She’d been there enough times.

“Omens in the real world?” Nicolette asked.  “Crows, for example.”

“You’d know better than I would.”

“I’m asking you.”

“Crows are a lot of things,” Jessica said.  “Augury, spiritual, psychopomp, omen.”

“So…” Nicolette said, before trailing off.  “Thoughts?”

“Crow shows up?  Pay attention, take stock,” Jessica said.

Yeaaaahh.  Nicolette and Jessica weren’t getting along that well, Lucy knew.  Which might’ve been why Jessica reverted to being a bit more curt.

There was a whole thing there.  Nicolette hadn’t been happy after the way things had unfolded with the ex-Forsworn and St. Victor’s kids.  She’d come with the Belanger kids, but that had been a bit rocky, a bit testy.  Then, in asking others for input, trying to figure it out, she’d asked Jessica, and Jessica’s natural dislike for drama had kinda screwed things up a bit.

As in Nicolette had eventually come around, more or less, but Jessica had been so annoyed at the idea of being roped into things that she’d not really been friendly with Nicolette, or Kennet.  More Nicolette than Kennet, really.

This was baby steps, currently.

“Um,” Jessica paused.  “Big black dogs.  Black horses.  Black cats.  Doom, fear, bad luck.  But it varies.  Any black animal, I guess.”

“Alpeana?” Verona asked.  “Still there?  Awake?”

“Aye, ah’m awake, Verona,” Alpeana said, from the back.  “Thar nae so bright, omens.  Ah cannae tell ye much ‘boot defendin’ yersel’.  They defend themselves fae me.  Thar useful.  Kin take them apairt.”

“Yeah,” Jessica said.  “You can butcher them.  Disrupt them enough, pull apart the pieces.  I do it.”

“Aye.”

“I wouldn’t recommend it to a roomful of beginners.”

“Ah suppose nae.”

“Anyone else?” Jessica asked.  “Quick one then.  Since it’s on screen, lesser typhlotic Others.  I’ll see if I can summon one tomorrow.  Again, mostly brainless.  I don’t think it should be a problem here?”

“Don’t think so,” Avery said.

“Should be fine,” Matthew said, from the back.

“Alright.  Eyeless, or Typhlotic.  Lots of variance.  Some are small enough to hold in your hands, beaks for ripping, or parasitic attachment, like leeches.  Many are human size.  They have no eyes, either blank spots where eyes would be, or skin, leather, or other material stretched over where the eyes would be, with indents for the covered eye sockets.  They’re related to Incarnations but in a very different way from omens.  They’re visceral, solid.  Very slow, reactive, last a very long time, and primarily prey on immaterial things like echoes and omens that are damaged, slow, weak or fading.  Including the souls and Self of visitors to the Ruins.”

The image projected onto the wall reminded Lucy of the alien from a horror movie she’d somehow missed watching up until recently, but molded around the shape of a man.  Spines at the neck formed a collar and leathery skin folds formed a skirt that looked like it was made of bat wings, with the ‘bones’ of those wings touching ground and leaving forking tendrils reaching out over a wide area.

This image didn’t move.

“There should be one image, three photos together?”

Lucy found the image and changed it.  Three smaller eyeless from the Ruins, images overlapping, with the corner of one image blocking part of another.  One was spidery, one looked like a bull with no head, just a glossy, knobby stump, horns melted back to sweep alongside the body, and the last was also spidery, but had a bit of a human shape melted into it, like black leather had been used to shrink wrap a very thin, long-limbed human to a spider the size of a fridge.

“It can help to think of them as the Ruins’ plants,” Jessica said.

“What’s this noo?” Alpeana asked.  “Thar nae plants, Jessica.”

“Similar to,” Jessica said.  “Very tough, rigid.  Slow to move, reaching limbs like creeping vines.”

“Thar nae plants,” Alpeana said, sounding a bit affronted.

“They’re not.  Maybe it’s a bad analogy,” Jessica said, placating Alpeana.  “If you wouldn’t sleep in a spot with man-eating plants-”

Alpeana sighed.

“-don’t set up a campfire in the Ruins where there are eyeless active.  Scary as they might look, don’t panic when you see them.”

“Unless they’re huge?” Verona asked.  “I saw a whale-wyrm type once.”

“…Yes.  They get bigger and more intense as you get deeper.  We’re still talking about beginner lessons, right?”

“We might have a skewed perspective,” Lucy said.  “We got pushed into the deep end.”

“Okay.  Well… common sense.  Don’t panic if you see this guy…”  She indicated the bigger spidery one.  “But don’t go in for a hug either.  Walk away.  If you end up deeper than you wanted and you see one huge enough you think you should be worried, worry.  Main takeaway is they’re not hunting you, not really.  Even if you’re in an astral body, so long as you’re not wounded or in arm’s reach, you should be fine.”

“That’s inside the Ruins, right?” Avery asked.  “Similar question to Nicolette- what happens outside?”

“They don’t do well, usually.  No food, they’re out of their element.  The ones that can do well can be scary, usually with special physiology or abilities, but that’s rare.  One in a hundred or one in two hundred, I’d guess.”

“If ye take some echo ‘n mash it up, squeeze oot th’ light bits ‘n keep th’ heavy, then ye kin make bait fir the eyeless,” Alpeana said.

“Bait?” Jessica asked.

“They dinnae see, they sense feelin`, sae if ye give them a concentrated mash o’ feelin`, they’ll follow it like moths tae a connle.”

“That’s interesting, but you’d have to figure out how to mash it without saturating yourself in the echo’s emotion.”

“Oh, aye.  Right.  Wee humans and thar nervous systems.  Dinnae ken howfur ye dae it.”

Ghostwriter had some minor questions, about the signs of a Typhlotic in a region.  There were some questions about fighting one, if one did catch you- with answers that mostly broke down to dealing with it like you would any wild animal… if that animal’s hide was next to impossible to penetrate.  The inevitable-ness of Incarnations leeching through to the eyeless, while omens had loose, limited abilities and only eyes in shadowy bodies.

“Heads up, Alpeana, lights coming on.”

There was a grumbling sound.  Alpeana’s hands and feet slapped on the hollow ceiling as she crawled across it, until she got to the top of the stairwell, and crawled up around to the floor above.

“Lights?” Lucy asked.

Goblins fought each other to be the ones to flick the light switch.

The glare of the light suddenly coming on made Lucy squint a bit.  Another goblin turned lights off and on again, apparently to be the one to have successfully done the task.  He looked very proud.

Lucy switched to a different window in the laptop.  “Okay, wrapping up, Jessica Casabien is very kindly staying overnight and doing lessons tomorrow afternoon.  She said she’ll be available for consulting until the lesson tomorrow, she’s already booked some people.”

“Liberty said she’s coming,” Avery said.  “She said she’d try to get in before Jessica started today, which it looks like she didn’t.  If she’s around, she should be available for consulting, she said.  And she wants to talk with one of us.”

Lucy nodded.  “Okay.  We’re very lucky to have the likes of Toadswallow and other goblins instructing us in the ways of goblin kings and queens, practitioners who deal with goblins, um, but Liberty can teach us some specifics and nuanced ‘goblin princess’ things, which I think is a label she made up.”

“Goblins and goblin-affiliated do that,” Avery said, in that same sage tone as before.

“If someone’s headed to or past Toronto, we have an errand to run, need info,” Lucy said.  “Low risk, you’d be giving a message, maybe answering basic questions.  Credit at the market and a bit of pay.”

Mr. Flowers, standing at the back, raised his alchemy-created hand.  “It’ll be a week and a half before I leave.”

“Excellent.  No huge rush.  Can we email?  Thank you.  There’s a repeat of last week’s request for hands to do some work in the market, Kennet below mainly.  Pay and market credit.  Any hands?”

Some hands were raised.

Lucy quickly took down some notes.  She considered asking for help with a minor project with the goblins, but decided against it.

“Dom, end of the week, we were going to take a trip to that group of Others in need, you were going to show us that basic diagnostic practice?”

Dom nodded.

“Reread whatever chapters necessary in whatever book you learned it out of, be ready to talk us through it?  It’s not a full teaching assignment, just you doing a mini-lesson.”

“Yeah,” Dom said.

“Anyone who wants to come and see is welcome to,” Lucy said.  “It’s a bit out of the way, maybe three hours out, three hours back, unless Avery figures out a shortcut.”

“Will try,” Avery said.

“That’s pretty much the entire Saturday.  Not the easiest thing when it’s that much time, I know.  We’ll be hanging out, talking, maybe light danger.  If you can’t come, we figure you’re basically only missing out on a picnic, meeting some Others, a demonstration, and a lot of road tripping.  It’s community service, helping out semi-distant neighbors.”

There were some nods.

“I think that’s all, good luck with dance, Dancers,” Lucy said.  “We’ll be a minute while we discuss some stuff.  Shitpants, hang around?”

Shitpants nodded.

People got up.  Many of the seats were improvised, or were basic stackable chairs that had been left in one of the factories for about a decade, and barely fixed up.  Even their accommodations here were… not super great.

“We need a better spot.  An actual school,” Lucy said.  “Especially if we’re trying to bring in more respectable teachers.

“Miss could build one,” Avery said.

“Maybe.  I don’t want to impose though, and she’s working on her own project,” Lucy said.  “Remember when we had that segment on Lost and Paths and we hosted it over there?  She put a lot of her admin people on it.  Felt like a lot.”

“It’s good of her to make the effort,” Avery said.

“For sure, but… I think she gets anxious about it all.  Let’s ease in.”

“Sin Victor’s?” Verona suggested.  “Boot out the latest group?”

“The latest group?” Lucy asked.  “I kind of like the slasher club.”

“Me too,” Verona said.  “So does Matthew.”

“I’d rather softly encourage them to find a place in Kennet to set up, instead of them using Sin Victor’s as a stepping stone to taking the school,” Lucy said.

“Hospital?”

“Or somewhere at the fringes.  Let’s leave them be for now.  Sin Victor’s is serving a role?”

“Hmm.  Slasher club?” Avery asked.

“They take turns randomly selecting one of them to be a bogeyman-style axe murderer with a theme, that person murders and maims the rest over the rest of the month,” Lucy said.  “Or tries.”

“Hmm?” Avery grunted, quizzical.

“Next month, way they’re knotted, they’re somehow all alive again.”

“Goofballs,” Verona added.

“Goofballs, maybe, but also an elite strike squad,” Lucy said.

“True.”

“If it works for you guys, it works for me.  Sorry, I’ve been distracted, again,” Avery said.  “I’m procrastinating even being here.”

“Valid,” Verona replied.

“We all have our distracted moments,” Lucy said.  “Let us know if we can help.”

“Were you only wanting to complain about the school stuff and shoot down all ideas, or did you have one yourself?” Verona asked.

Lucy scrunched up one side of her face.  “Would be nice to pool money.  I wonder how much we’d need.”

“We’re a while off from having that money to spare,” Verona said.

Lucy puffed up her cheeks as she sighed.

“It’s good though,” Verona said.

“You said you were looking into someone to teach hollow practices and hosting,” Lucy said.  “Anything there, Ronnie?”

“Some.”

“Someone we can trust?”

“I went through some of the more current texts, ran some names by people we know, like Raquel and Tymon, and cold-called the ones who sounded okay.  Someone’s interested.  They might be wanting more than we’re paying, but I think I piqued his interest talking knotting.  Oh, and speaking of knots, Dee’s boyfriend might be in.”

“Cool,” Lucy said.  “Good work.  You handling that meeting?”

“Matthew is.  Apparently his dad knew the guy.  He should be able to do a better temperature check.”

“Perfect.”

Lucy changed some stuff on the spreadsheet.

Verona clicked her tongue, winking.

“I wonder if that’ll ever stop sounding so weird to me in opossum-ese,” Avery said.

“Speaking of pay, Jessica.  Sorry to go off on a tangent, but I think Avery’s running off, kinda wanted to talk some stuff out while we’re in one place.”

“Yeah,” Avery said.  “Off to see Nora.  Anxiety, stress.  Aaaa.  Sorry.”

“I’m not bothered,” Jessica said.

“Five hundred for today’s class, five for tomorrow’s, two hundred for being available for consultation in between, sixty for gas?” Lucy asked.

“Yeah?” Jessica asked, with more of a note of interest and emotion than she’d had before.  “I thought the gas was baked in.”

It was but we want teachers to want to come here, and if an extra amount helps, that’s ideal.

“Is it a problem if it’s not?” Lucy asked.

“Nope.”

“Can I zip-cash it?”

“Sure.”

Lucy did that on the laptop, from the shared account to Jessica’s phone, before closing the laptop and unplugging the chain of adapters.  She turned off the projector and felt the exterior- it nearly took the fingerprints off her fingers, it was so hot.  “Need a new projector.”

“Among the many other things,” Avery said.  “But we’ve got time to do it.”

“True,” Lucy said.  “But I don’t want to get so used to the patchwork measures that we overlook it.”

Avery nodded.

“I can put out feelers for other projectors and better chairs at the market,” Verona said.  “I plan to be selling tonight, I’ll see what’s around.”

“Cool.  I’ll visit,” Lucy said.

“Talk to Lis, maybe, about doing what Ken did for me with the House on Half Street.  Want a school as a demesne?”

“I don’t want to lock anything in,” Lucy replied.

Verona nodded.

“Before anything, Jessica, did you schedule anything for right after, here?” Lucy asked.

“Nope.  Intentionally.  Teaching like this stresses me out.”

“Okay, well, no rush, but this dude here-” Lucy indicated Shitpants.  “He’s knotted up, and something in that, it means he’s constantly being haunted.”

Shitpants stood there with wide eyes.  He was a long-haired kid with deep bags under his eyes and some random bruising around his bare arms.  Well, Lucy thought ‘kid’, but he was probably older than her.  Just… malnourished and worn thin, until he felt more diminutive.  While they were in the process of reforming things, Kennet below still did have people who were victims or victimizers, and both required a lot of attention.  Shitpants was a victim.

“Thus the name.  Shitpants.  Constant jumpscares,” Verona said.

“His place is a mess of stray echoes, wraiths, omens.  Ruins-type stuff.  No obligation to do it, but if you have a free block of time some time before you leave, we’d owe you.”

“Shitpants?” Jessica asked, frowning.

“Yeah,” the answer came.

“Do you have another name I can call you?  You don’t have Shitpants on your birth certificate, do you?”

“I don’t, no.  It’s a nickname.”

“What else can I call you?”

“Name on my birth certificate is Unwanted Fucksop,” the kid said.

Jessica glanced at Avery, then back to Shitpants.  “Shitpants, then?  What if I call you Pants?”

“Better than Shit, I guess.”

“Alright.  Yeah, let’s go now, figure that out.  See if we can’t figure out a solution.  If you can get control over this, that’d be useful.”

“Control?  Controlling echoes?”

“Could, with practice and the right knowledge,” Jessica said.

“That’d be cool.”

Jessica turned to Lucy.  “I wanted to ask a favor.”

“My mom?”

“More questions for a nurse.”

“Dinner?” Lucy offered.  “Like the other time?”

“Sure.”

“Cool.”

They finalized some stuff.  Jessica left with Pants.  Lucy put her laptop in her bag and pulled on her backpack, before also getting her guitar.

Lucy turned her full attention to Avery.

“Aaaa,” Avery said.

“So wobbly in Self, the Opossum spirit is leaking through?” Lucy asked.

“Aaaaa.”

“Is this one of the worst case scenarios for the familiar bond?  Crumbling under pressure, our dear Avery has lost the ability to be verbal?” Lucy asked.

“I’m imagining us getting Avery a hoodie with opossum ears, some treats, a warm blanket, and pets on the head, until she mends,” Verona added.

Avery grabbed Lucy by the backpack straps.  She lightly shook her.  “Aaaa.”

“You’ll be fine.”

“Ave,” Verona said.  She reached over and gave Avery a sharp pat on the cheek.  “Ave.”

“What?”

“Step back, look dashing and thoughtful.”

“What are you even-”

“Dashing and thoughtful!”

“That’s not a thing I do on purpose.”

“You are a badass witch, top athlete-”

“Not to gainsay, but Jeanine is top, among the juniors and sophomores.  Once she started trying, to spite me.  I don’t mind, we tolerate each other.”

“Okay, well, top two-”

“Top three.  I’ve been distracted.”

“Top three is still top athlete!  Top athlete, cute, caring, unintentionally dashing.”

“You’ve saved the region from an asshole with godly power,” Lucy said.  “Beat the Promenade, you’re a respected witch.”

Verona kept going, keeping the momentum going, “And that girl is goofy for you.  Gooey marshmallow goofy.  And you’re goofy for her.”

“That makes it worse.  There’s so much at stake.  Aaaaa.”

“You’ll be fine,” Lucy said.  “Whatever you’re procrastinating on, stop it.  Sitting in on a class was good, meeting up to talk is important.  Jessica trusts you more than us, all good.  You’ve done good, but now there’s no reason for you to be here.”

“I asked her to keep her afternoon open but haven’t locked down the plans.”

“Go lock it down then,” Lucy said, exasperated.

“Aaa.  You know-”

“-This is something I should say!  I’m sorry I keep getting preoccupied.”

“It’s fine.  You contribute great, you answer texts, you’re great.”

“But then I forget stuff I should remember, like the slasher club- I should’ve checked on that.”

“Procrastinating,” Verona accused.

“I’m sorry, that’s what I wanted to say, I should keep better track.”

“You’re fine.  We love you.  Now go!”

“Vamoose,” Verona said.

Avery hesitated, rocking on her heels.  A rap of Lucy’s knuckle to Avery’s sternum made her take a step back, and once she was moving, she kept going.

“Goober,” Lucy said.

She heard a rustling.

“Who’s in the bushes?”

“Me,” Liberty said, from the bushes.  She straightened up, some goblins clinging to her arms.  She wore a jacket over a strategically torn sweater, and torn jeans, a spiked collar, and carried a bag with a combination of stuff and goblins in it- it was a cat carrier backpack with a clear bubble dome in it, and goblins were pressed up against the inside of the plastic, licking the surface and making faces against it.  “I peeked in and Jessica was teaching, I didn’t want to interrupt, especially when she doesn’t like me much.  Then Avery was panicking, and I really didn’t want to pile onto that by showing up.”

“Did she warn you?” Verona asked.  “What she’s up to?”

“I knew she was busy with Nora stuff, but I didn’t think it was today.  Bit of a bummer.”

Liberty wasn’t one to really wear her heart on her sleeve, but something in the tone of her voice, it wasn’t quite level.

“No obligation to stay, if you were coming for an Avery hangout,” Lucy said.  “We’re always happy to have you here, but if the wonky plans are throwing things-”

“Nah.  Nah,” Liberty replied.  She heaved out a sigh, then flashed a smile, teeth filed to points.  “I’ll check on my dad, I figure, see Uncle Toady.”

“Cool,” Lucy said.  Offer for an out given.  “Want company?  I’ve got things to do, I could loop in those directions.  Only for a couple hours.  Then dinner with Jessica, assuming my mom okays it.”

“Company would be nice,” Liberty said.

“Want to meet me for dinner?” Verona asked.  “Traumatize my mom?  McCauleigh would be with.  My mom got fussy over Sheridan and me being rude.  You, me, McCauleigh?”

“That sounds fun.  Man, if you’d told me a year ago I’d be hanging with a Hennigar…”

“She’s changing it.  Roth.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.  A friend’s last name.”

“Cool.  That makes it okay then.  So I go from Lucy to you?”

“Whenever.  You have my number.”

“I’ll time things to be at Toad’s before dinner, if you want to stop in with Peckersnot.”

“Cool,” Verona said.

Lucy and Liberty walked through the people who were lingering and talking outside the front door.  Lucy had to adjust the guitar she’d slung around her back so it laid right against the backpack.  She was happy for this weather- pleasantly cool, vaguely melancholic.

She hadn’t been able to enjoy last Fall this much because of the shadow of John’s Death and Charles’ fresh reign as Carmine Exile.  She took in a deep breath, and sighed.

“George, can I give you a job?” Lucy asked, as she spotted him.

“Do I get market credit?”

“Sure.  Just a bit.  Projector’s hot.  When it’s not too hot to touch, can you put it away?  Lock it up, before random gremlins get at it?”

“Sure.”

She fished a key free from her necklace, then tossed it to him, before reconnecting the chain

“Can we use the place to party?”

“Can you clean up well enough we can’t tell you used the place?” she asked.  “Careful how you answer.  That’s mostly a ‘don’t, or be really careful if you do'”

“I hear ya,” he said.

It was actually hard to extricate herself from the crowd of the after-school magic class.  It was a different thing than it had been after the Charles confrontation, though.  She felt like if she needed to, she could ask someone to handle something, or she could say no.  When there were things on her plate, they felt good, mostly.  Like she was building something, opening doors for others.

A good five or six Aware had come from Sargeant Hall.  Most seemed to want to find a place to stabilize and settle down.

Clem wasn’t among them.  Lucy worried Clementine had too strong a sense of responsibility.  Strong enough she felt like she had to stay.

How would I know what a too-strong sense of responsibility looks like, right?

So there was some checking in to do.  Making sure some of those new people felt seen.  Then Mr. Flowers wanted to clarify about his time away, make sure people were stepping in to look in on Cameron and her mom.

“Dom!” Liberty greeted him before Lucy could.  Just when Lucy thought she’d gotten clear.

“Heya,” he said.  He was still a shy kid, but his smile was wider than usual, and he looked at ease.  Bea stood a short distance away.

“You want to do something while I’m around?  Make plans?” Liberty asked.  “You’re one of my favorite students.”

“Sure.  Um, I’m going to be doing stuff at the market.  Working, kind of.”

“They’re not working you too hard?”

“No.  It’s not like that.”

“You staying in touch with Talia and Jorja?”

“It’s hard.  Jorja’s so far away.  Talia’s mom is not… a fan of Kennet, sorta.”

“We need to work on that,” Liberty said.  She looked at Lucy.

“I am open to suggestions.”

“Maybe if my dad asks.”

“I wouldn’t feel right asking him, and it feels weird, asking for favors, when he’s a prisoner.  Power imbalance.  But if you wanted to, and he said yes, I don’t think I’d say no.”

“Is that why you haven’t gone to train with him?”

“Part of it.  We should go, by the way, or timing might be a bit tight.”

“Okay, we’ll talk, okay?” Liberty asked Dom.  “Figure this out.”

He nodded.

“You find Luna?”

“I don’t know how to reach her.”

“Just hit Kennet found, ask for Miss.  Maybe bring a gift for her.  I don’t think she’ll mind.”

He nodded, with some enthusiasm.

Dom wasn’t even the last person.

“Talk to Matthew or email me!” she told them, before they could mob her.

She almost ran to get away.

“Busy,” Liberty said.

Lucy fixed her guitar strap at her front.  “It’s a good busy.  An easier busy.  How are you doing?”

“Lonely, sometimes.  America’s got a boyfriend.  Dad’s here.  People at school don’t really know me.  Sometimes I think I should’ve stuck around here, been a part of this.  But when I was here earlier on, when you were starting up the magic school, I was in the way.”

“You think so?  I didn’t get that sense.”

“Some.  I was in my own way.  It’s like… goblins.  You know how goblins are really easy to mold and influence?  Adapt to their environments?”

“Sure.”

“Me being here molded them, when you were trying to do your own molding.  But for more things than goblins.  Kids.  The school.  I end up doing too much or too little.  Second guessing myself.  Getting away, going home, seeing ‘Meri, going back to school, even, it was good for a bit.”

“That’s good.”

“But only for a bit.  It’s like, what the fuck, right?  The whole idea from a while back was ‘Meri and me, we’d make the world accept us, by threats, sabotage, or mind games.  Here I am, years later, not accepted anywhere.”

“Legitimately, and I’m saying this as a person who is way less nice than Avery, and with way lower tolerances than Verona?  If you wanted to stay in Kennet, close to your dad, we’d love to have you.”

“Thanks.  I don’t think it fixes this though.  I really don’t want to be the kinda lame-ass who needs someone in their life to fix them.  I’m not talking love life either.”

“But you’re maybe not not talking about it?” Lucy asked.  “If you want to talk about the Avery situation… stop me if I’m going too far.”

“Nah.  Nah, it’s… that crush has mostly run its course.  I get we’re incompatible.”

“You find compatibility, I’d say.”

“I’m trying to talk myself out of a crush here, asshole.”

“Sorry!”

“Listen with that earring of yours, don’t give me a reality check when I’m trying to delude myself.”

Liberty’s tone was mock-angry, verging on playful.  But Lucy’s hearing could pick up nuances in her voice.

“Okay.  Sorry.”

“I’m not saying I wouldn’t try my everfucking best to give her the time of her life, a fling, smother that girl in kisses and make sure she knows how great she is.  Stupid, reckless fun.  Run Paths, go to weird places.  Visit scenic vistas like the crawling flesh plains of the deep Warrens or Dead Fish lake, or, hell, the area of the Faerie where America and I went, that Ms. Poole had to rescue me from.”

They’d crossed to Kennet found.  Blue-black leaves had fallen from trees and collected, decorating this twilight Kennet with its arching streets.  Liberty rummaged for a mask.  Lucy put hers on, tying it behind her head.

“You know she’s dating Sebastian Harless?” Lucy asked, as Liberty put on a goblin mask.

“No kidding?  He seemed so old.”

“Not that different in age from her.  Just… aged prematurely.”

“And she looks young, I guess.  I mostly remember her being just out of law school, looking about as old as you do.  Still weird.  That’s so good, though.”

“It’s so good.”

“Bit of salt in the ol’ wound here, gotta say.”

So there is a wound? Lucy wondered.

“Point is… hold on,” Liberty said.

They’d reached a crowd, and whatever emotional stuff Liberty was talking about, she didn’t want to talk about it with others nearby.

The crowd didn’t dissipate though.  They kept walking, there kept being more people nearby.

“Want to go over by the canal?  Less people.  We can chat,” Lucy offered.

“Kinda want to see my dad.  And like you said, there isn’t that much time before dinner.  I want to spend some of it with Uncle Toady, too.”

“Sure,” Lucy said.

Anthem Tedd was still under arrest.  There were periods of timed release for specific events, or so he could step in for Sword Moot stuff on behalf of Kennet, or for visits with his daughters, but he had a sentence to work off, and the time given was five years, not five months.

So he was here.

Liberty, Lucy supposed, was a casualty of that.  A kid without much to cling to.

There was that idea again.

Liberty went off to where her dad was staying.  An informal prison, secured with word, not concrete and bars.

Lucy carried on to what was more of an actual prison.

The more they built Kennet up to be something more, the more it required tools and measures to deal with the things that would tear it down.  Charles had initially been forsworn as a result of an argument with Alexander Belanger, over prisons, rehabilitation, and all of that.  It had been a hot button issue for him, and that button had been pressed.

Then, in making Kennet below, he’d made a place where inhumane treatment of prisoners wasn’t a thing, not because it was better, but because there wasn’t much justice that wasn’t brutal and violent.

Miss leaned much more heavily on the rehabilitation side of things.  But there were cases, like the mass slaughter of foundlings, or objective threats to Kennet, that had to be locked up.  So Kennet found had a prison.  It took a lot to get locked away, but when someone was, there were whole teams focused around that someone.  In a way, it was becoming a concrete part of what Kennet found was about.

Contrasts, like Liberty had talked about.  Kennet found was very free, with minimal responsibilities and pressures from life.  It was a place to heal, to find quiet.  But at the same time, that freedom could be taken away, and responsibility could be enforced with hard law.  In every case, it went to the council, no less than twenty people would argue it.  Foundlings would try to find ways to fix the problems or causes, find ways to identify what had gotten things to this point.  What needed to change?

A lot of those things that needed to change were like the projector.  Resources, money, and more were required.

But Miss was functionally as immortal as Kennet found was, and it worked as a long term project, Lucy supposed.  Miss seemed to find a sincere value and peace in it.  Not joy, maybe.  Joy would be if nobody was being an asshole or a problem at all.

Miss’s joy was reserved for those like Luna Hare and Dom- Lucy could hear Luna Hare’s running footsteps as she crossed peaked rooftops downtown, called by Miss, going to Dom’s side to hang out with her friend.  Thousands of children she’d created and nurtured.  Hundreds of step-children, adopted and brought here to receive the same care as if they’d been born here.

Miss was out there, watching as Luna ran.  She passed by them on her way to the town center, perspective shifts making her shrink as she drew closer.

She left cups of coffee for Lucy and Liberty as she swept by.  Miss’s way of showing she wasn’t brushing them off or upset, that didn’t have them interrupted by Miss stopping in to talk.

Miss was doing other projects too.  Lucy could see past the tall, narrower-than-a-person windows that stretched from floor to ceiling along the hallway.  A tower was being built, and where the upper segment had only a few pieces complete, some of those pieces weren’t connected to others, and floated in their positions in the sky, waiting for the building below to get tall enough to connect up to them.

It was supposed to be a clearer way up to the Paths.

Though all of that, though Lucy had never been in total sync with Kennet found, she was finding a deeper appreciation for it.  She owed Grandfather, she supposed, for her ability to find peace and appreciation for the more tranquil parts of it.

She walked the hallway of the prison, a single nod sufficient to get her past the guards maintaining interlocking gates with built in puzzles that escaping prisoners would have to solve, before all of Kennet collapsed in on them.

Lucy was surprised to see Nomi at the end of the hallway.

Hands in the pockets of the coat the Dog Tags had given her, Lucy approached at an easygoing pace, walking over until her shoulder almost touched Nomi’s.

The intricate wrought iron of the cell door was multi-layered, the various moving pieces forming a grille of curved and straight bars that looked like a woman’s face, with wrought-iron outlines of hands at the top right and bottom left corner, footprints at the top left and bottom right.

Kira-Lynn sat on her cot on the other side.  Her arms ended in blackened stumps.  One had crumbled during the fighting.  One had broken on its own, shortly after.  The methods they’d tried to heal or replace them had been… like running a forty kilometer marathon to make four steps worth of progress.  The only accommodations Kira-Lynn hadn’t destroyed were a television that played in the corner, showing some afternoon TV, and music, slightly overlapping the noise of the TV.  Lucy would have listened to one or the other.

Kira-Lynn could turn any prosthetic attached to her arm-stumps into the equivalent of a black branch, and could invoke some limited horrorfication and elementalism with hand movements, though it was pretty basic.  The stumps were more like being Other or magic items than practice, so the usual anti-practice stuff didn’t work.  They could have bound her, but bindings could break, Kennet was generally anti-binding, and the Abyss was naturally corrosive.

So they hadn’t attached any prosthetics.  Instead, two red gloves were inside the cell.  Kira-Lynn moved an arm, and the corresponding glove didn’t move right away.  A three or four second delay, before it caught up to the arm and the intent.  Picking up a glass on the far side of the cell.  A bit awkward to drink, with that time delay.

A ways way, in a separate building, undisclosed and fairly hard to directly access, a small team of administrative foundlings received every request for a use of the hand, intent, and meaning, and had to sign off on it.  There were a few things like that, in this prison.  If she wanted water, fine.

If she moved an arm to gesture something rude to Lucy?  The hand, partway through complying, clenched into a fist and hit the floor with a soft thud, like a beanbag had fallen.

With the Abyssal-ness in her, the obscene gesture might’ve had a tiny amount of practice to it.

“Fuck you,” Kira-Lynn growled.  “Fuck you both.”

Lucy didn’t speak.

“You think Charles won’t get free?” she asked.  “Or the Aurum?  You think Maricica can’t escape?  You don’t have the ovaries to kill, you don’t have grit.  So you push us back, lock us away.  Charles and the Aurum in the crucible, Maricica in the Winter court’s box.  Me in here.  But you know as well as I do, if there’s a big enough crack, one of us gets free, they free the rest.”

She stood, a mite awkwardly without hands, even though the gloves had animated and floated roughly where her hands would’ve been, if a bit time delayed.

Lucy had retorts ready.  She could’ve said they’d won once already.

Or that the problem wasn’t just the boxes people were in.  It was mentality.  That they hadn’t been great at cooperating when everything was going for them and they were defeated mentally in ways that would keep them down even if the boxes or cells were taken away.

But saying or doing anything would have fueled Kira-Lynn’s anger.

It was frustrating.  Until Kira-Lynn could find it in herself to want to start on the path to rehabilitation, they couldn’t.

“I’ll kill your family,” Kira-Lynn said, with sincerity, staring Lucy in the eyes.  “One day, you’ll hear I got free.  This conversation will cross your mind.  Then you’ll remember I said that.  You’ll go, go to them, you’ll find the bodies.”

This wasn’t useful.

Kira-Lynn maybe wanted to bang on or reach through the bars, but the hands dropped to the ground on either side of her, beanbags again.  She kicked the door, then banged her forehead into it.  She didn’t shout as she said, “Answer me.”

Only one of the reasons they couldn’t let her go.  The route she was on, there was a real risk she could get swallowed up by the Abyss.  Then there’d be a real risk she could get spat back out, tainted, meaner.

This wasn’t productive.

“Answer me!”

Lucy turned to go.

Kira-Lynn reached into herself, screaming.  A scream that went somewhere dark and deep. A bedlamite scream.  An Abyssal howl.

Lucy was ready to hit the portion of the door to shut that off, but it was already automatic.  Parts of the cell had metal slats, and as the scream kicked off, despite Kira-Lynn sticking her foot into it, the slats moved, forming a criss-cross of sound-breaking diagram work and sound baffling.

The scream was muted, Kira-Lynn’s words after cut short.

Lucy reached down to the portion of the door that was shaped like a mouth, and touched that mouth, which had its lips slightly parted.  The metal bars moved, well-oiled ratchets whirred, and the mouth closed.

More sound-blocking effects.  Ones that wouldn’t automatically undo themselves when Kira-Lynn stopped.

Lucy touched the ear that was part of the door… and then the eye.

Making it so Kira-Lynn wouldn’t hear them or see past the door, while they could see her, more or less.

Not so much reason to walk away now.  Lucy maintained the same position, halfway turned around, almost with her back to Nomi.

“Didn’t know you were around,” she told Nomi.

“Didn’t announce it.  You going to kick me out?”

“Nope.”

“Thought I should stop in.  My grandmother’s seeing friends.”

“Sure.”

“I’m not freeing or helping her, if that matters.”

“I believe you.”

“I’m not helping you either.  I’ve got shitty old deals to stick to.”

“Yeah.”

But even though Nomi said that, she and many of the other ex-St. Victor’s students were kind of in an equilibrium with Kennet.  They weren’t local- it had been for the best that they all move away.  But they were around.  In a way it was useful.  They didn’t talk, so maybe if something went horribly, terribly wrong, then it could insulate one group from the other.

Lucy didn’t want to sound like Jessica sounded when talking to Nicolette, here.  Curt, not giving much.  A visit to the Alabaster hadn’t convinced the Judge to undo the oaths that bound the St. Victor’s practitioners from cooperating with Kennet.  The Alabaster Assembly had said she wouldn’t try too hard to enforce that oath, but she wouldn’t ignore it either.  So things remained like this.  A tentative cooperation that wasn’t official cooperation.

Kira-Lynn, agitated, was kicking at her cot.

She’d taken in something dark and it hadn’t left her.

“Screaming makes it worse.  Might be better if I don’t visit,” Lucy said.

“Maybe.  She was screaming at me earlier,” Nomi said.  “I might tell the others not to visit, too.  Not that I’m cooperating with you on this.”

Nomi was easiest to talk to like this.  Others might not have picked up on the other half of what Lucy was suggesting without saying anything aloud.

“Yeah.  Bit of quiet.  If she goes for a while without screaming or going to that dark place, maybe she can access the parts of her that might accept help.  I know there’s a team eager to get her started.”

Nomi nodded.  “Staff said they need to dress her stumps, but the Abyssal part of things leeches into the bandages.  Gets tricky.”

“Yeah.”

The bandages then carried the Abyssal darkness into the wastebin, into that corner of the cell, gradually took over the cell.  Meaning people had to get in there with some frequency, both to dress the wounds and change out the stained bandages and clean up.

Messy overall.

And yeah, one fuck up, and maybe Kira-Lynn would try to kill Lucy’s mom.

“Why are you here today?” Lucy asked.

“You didn’t hear?”

“Hear what?”

“I’m not going to tell you,” Nomi said.  “Sorry.  That’d be cooperating.”

Lucy frowned.

“Stuff on the horizon.  Not on your doorstep,” Nomi confided.

“Okay.  Shit.  Alright.”

Nomi shrugged.

Kira Lynn charged the door, smashing her forehead into it with enough force she would’ve or should’ve harmed herself.  But the slats folded away from the impact site, and as part of related mechanisms, bars locked in at her neck.

Trapping her like some kid putting his head through the railing of a staircase, unable to extract it.

A ticking marked the minute it would hold her like that.

All of this had to take so much out of Miss.

“Sometimes I wonder how it would’ve gone if our original plan had worked out,” Nomi said.

“Yeah?” Lucy asked.

“The undead we were making.  The bogeymen we were calling.  Elementals.  Joel was making us dragonslayer weapons.  We were catching up.  That fucking technomancy Other we were going to use to ambush you.”

“Father Gozar or something?”

“Yeah.  Fuck that.  That was it, right?  It got loose, tipped you off.  Our guys panicked.  All the things they were saying, we would’ve sent that shit at you, murdered you, and rationalized it away after.  Or dosed ourselves on Abyss to help ease the guilt.”

“Yeah.”

“You’ve killed, right?”

“Yep.”

“Do you sleep okay?”

“Probably too okay.  Tried to have good reasons when we did it.  It’s more the people I didn’t directly kill that sit uneasy.  Or the ones I didn’t save.”

“I don’t think there are many people I didn’t save.  Didn’t get that far,” Nomi said.  “Only got to the indirect shit, and people I hurt so bad, I’m not sure if they’re alive or not.”

“Do you want to know?  I could check.”

“Hell no.  If you told me I didn’t kill anyone, I’d stop feeling as bad as I should.  If you told me I killed people, I wouldn’t be able to stand it.”

Lucy nodded.

“I guess they count, right?  The other students?  Kira-Lynn, Cameron, Teddy?”

“Sure.”

“What would it have looked like, if we’d won?  How many of us would’ve ended up like Kira-Lynn there?”

“Or Cameron?” Lucy asked.  “Or Dony?”

“He around?”

“Hasn’t been in touch with us either.”

“Kinda don’t blame him.”

“Yeah.”

The TV fritzed as Kira-Lynn screamed, muted to Lucy and Nomi’s ears, in the cell.

“You talk to Teddy?” Lucy asked.

“He’s with Josef.  Reached out, I think he wanted friends.  You want details?  So you can find him and Josef?”

“If I said yes, you’d say you can’t give me them.”

“True.”

“Do we need to worry about them?”

“They would’ve come up in conversation earlier if you did.”

Good to know, at least.

“See Cameron yet?”

“She’s not in this building.”

“She’s in the rehabilitation group.  Life lessons, therapy, talking stuff out, acts of service.”

Nomi nodded.

“Her family visits.  I mostly get updates from some Aware who keep tabs on her and her mom.  Apparently they were on the sidelines when Cameron got ostracized by the community, felt bad.”

“I’ll go say hi after this.  Or after what I do after this.  Need to sit.  Figure out what to even say.  I didn’t like her.  She didn’t like me.  I was shitty to her.”

Lucy nodded.

The inside of the cell being as quiet as it was, on top of the fact that Kennet found was already quiet to begin with, with no cars on the roads, it made things feel deathly and dark.

Lucy hadn’t fully turned to face Nomi for a bit.  She didn’t want to face Kira-Lynn like this, but she didn’t want to turn away entirely either.

Was this justice?  Was it justice, for Cameron to get off relatively lightly, with so much focus on rehabilitation?  She’d spend three to five years living in tranquil Kennet found, do classes, get therapy, get regular visits from the Flowers and people like Nomi, get her education, and then she’d be free.

Teddy deserved worse, honestly, after some of the stuff he’d done.  Cameron had been one of the least bad, most sympathetic of the final group, but even she’d stood by and watched while Gillian Belanger-Ross got turned into a horror.  She’d kept going after that.  Teddy, by all reports, had been worse.  He’d played a big part in Horseman and the other Dog Tags getting bound.  Ramjam had gotten bound by Teddy and got shot as a result.  He’d gone for alchemy instead of the Abyss stuff Kira-Lynn had dived into.

Was there any justice with the Teddy situation?  If he was camped out somewhere with an amoral alchemist, probably doing a lot of damage to his Self?  Were the consequences of the alchemy lower in the short term, but worse in the long, as he was effectively addicted?

She’d talked about it with Verona during one sleepover.  Verona had raised some of those ideas, and it seemed like she was at peace with that.

Lucy turned away.

“Keep an eye on the horizon, eh?” Nomi told Lucy.  It seemed like she thought Lucy was leaving.  Maybe Lucy was.

“Eh.  Yeah.”

The mechanism released Kira-Lynn, and she stumbled back.  She sat back down on the cot, slumped back, neck at an awkward angle, almost a right angle to her body.  Eyes on the television, breathing hard.

Black stumps.  Like black wings, broken.

An animal could be a living omen, Jessica had said.

If a crow could represent one thing, and a dog another, or a horse something else, then what was a Kira-Lynn?  Charred black, arms broken.

“Be safe out there,” Lucy said, as parting words.

“Yeah,” Nomi replied.

She left Nomi there, watching Kira-Lynn, digesting things.

Liberty was still in with her dad, so Lucy found a spot that was out of the way, that let her watch the entrances, got her guitar out, and plucked at the strings.  It needed a bit of tuning, and she used her earring to help find the tones, pushing willpower into it, then having each of the spikes that radiated outward from her ear match to specific notes.

Then, once she’d settled, she set to playing.  She wasn’t sure if the songs came from the feelings after seeing Kira-Lynn, or general vibes of Kennet found, here, or if they were from her, or from music she’d heard and forgotten.  But she let the sounds come as they wanted to.

The sound helped Liberty find her, a little while later.  Following the music.  Liberty was a little red around the eyes.  Lucy noticed but didn’t remark on it.

They started the walk back toward downtown and Toadswallow’s speakeasy.

“Done your errands, I take it?” Liberty asked.

“Done this one.”

“What were we talking about?”

The most recent thing had been salt in wounds, but it felt wrong to bring that up.

“Sebastian and Ms. Poole.”

“Heck yeah.  It just kinda sucks seeing people figure it all out, find where they belong, who they belong with.  Here I am, stranded, I guess.”

“You can come here.”

“That’s not the point.”

“It’s not, I get it, but also if it could be the point I think you’d be happier.”

“Maybe.”

“Do I have to bludgeon you into staying?  Do I have to guilt you?  Tell you that we’ve worked our asses off trying to make a place people can stay, and you’re injuring our pride if you don’t let this be that?”

“Ehhh.”

“Or that you’re injuring Avery’s pride?”

“Cheap shot.”

“Or do I say those kids, like Dom, they really like you?  You were their rock in shaky times, at the Blue Heron, under Musser.  It’d be good for them.”

“You’re really going to twist my arm, here?”

“Tell me not to and I can stop.  But if you need to be convinced you’re not imposing, I’m prepared to overload you with conviction.”

“Hmmm… I’m a bit raw after talking to Daddy and unloading stuff on him.  Ask me later?”

“Sure,” Lucy said.

They walked toward downtown without a ton to say.  Liberty asked about Lucy’s errand. Lucy gave her the cliff notes on the St. Victor’s kids.  That took about five minutes out of a fifteen minute walk to get from the middle of Kennet found to the downtown area of Kennet above.

“Nomi said there was something on the horizon,” Lucy finally said.

“Fuck,” Liberty said.

“Is that a ‘fuck, I didn’t know that, that’s bad’, or is it a ‘fuck, we’re talking about that?”

“It’s a fuck we’re talking about that.”

“Fuck.”

“Well fucking said,” Liberty said.  “I kinda checked in with Ave and asked if I could swing in to chat.  Wanted to talk about stuff.  But I don’t want to drop that on her lap when she’s got other stuff going on.”

“Hit me with it instead.  I’ll find a time.  You’ll have done your diligence, you don’t have the part where you’re upsetting Avery on you.”

“Engh,” Liberty grunted.

“Hey,” Lucy said.  She elbowed Liberty.  “Delegate.  I’ve been working on it.”

“I’ll have you know I’m an excellent delegator.  With goblins.”

“Delegate to me like I’m one of your goblins, then.”

Liberty snorted.

“Come on.  If it makes it easier.”

“Hey, little bitch,” Liberty said, cracking a grin, seemingly despite herself.  “Can you run a fucking errand for me?”

“I can run an errand for you, Liberty,” Lucy said, trying to sound like an excited, overenthusiastic goblin.  “I could run such a good errand!”

“I need you to find a freckled redhead Path runner named Avery Kelly.  You know her.  Pass on a message.  It’s about the Redcap Queen.”

“Ah, shit.”

“Yeah, my horrible cutie,” Liberty said.  She sighed.  “I’m pretty sure I remember goblins like your Bluntmunch, they came out this way to get clear of her, specifically.  The Legendres had meetings about her, with whole organizations of people who deal with goblins.  Now she’s expanding influence.  She killed a goblin down in the States.”

“Important?”

“I’d say it was a bigger deal as a goblin than Charles Abrams was as a Judge.”

Lucy didn’t have a great response for that.

“Goblins are easy to mold.  She’s doing a lot of molding.  Even in the past few months, I’ve sensed a change.  Used to be I could meet a group of goblins, and you could make an argument that they’re not that different from people.  Circumstances nudge things, but mostly you get a similar mix of good ones, bad ones, dangerous ones.”

“Sure.  Maybe keeping in mind that people can be really dangerous.”

“Yeah.  But now?  It’s different.  More dangerous ones.  I don’t know how connected it is, but it used to be I could go to any area of the Warrens that’s close-to here.  Connected to Chicago, New York, Toronto, Winnipeg, Wisconsin… there’d be enough fans of America and Liberty Tedd, I’d be okay.  Now there’s places I stay away from.”

“Hmm.  A bit of why you’re in the dumps?”

“Yeah.  Part of what I was talking to Daddy about.  He’s gotten a lot better.  The way he was before, he would’ve said I should’ve taken combat lessons more seriously, if I wanted to be respected on my own merits.”

“I’m glad he’s gotten better.  I’m sorry this sucks.”

Liberty groaned, and the groan got louder as she did it, head lolling back.  Her jaw unhinged until the top half nearly touched the back of her shoulders, and her tongue stuck out, long.  Her teeth clacked as she shut her mouth.  “Ugh.”

“We were sending someone to Toronto to get info.  She’s been in the back of our minds.  One of the things we’d be asking for updates on.”

“You might still want that.  Regular updates.  So you don’t get caught with your panties down.”

“Right.  So… sending someone to neighbors every few weeks?”

“Or weekly.”

“Okay.  And Augurs get put on the job?”

“Yeah,” Liberty said.  “Speaking of, you think you could pass the Augur stuff to me?  There’s some things goblins don’t notice, and it’s on my mind.”

“Yeah,” Lucy said.

They’d reached Toadswallow’s speakeasy ‘with emphasis on the easy’.  Lucy checked the coast was clear, and pushed aside the plywood blocking a window.  A connection block on the side facing inside kept Innocents from coming in.  Another rune kept the noise down, which was good.

Goblins were malleable, and mostly, even the threat posed by the dangerous goblins, like the ones in Gerhild’s neck of the woods, they were tempered by the fact that the goblins slept half to three quarters of the day.  It varied, of course, like all things goblin, but was a good rule of thumb.

Something had shifted here.  There was something goblins were hungry to do, and it meant a constant, low-level activity, excitement, and interest.

Brayden was here with one of the seniors, a friend of Reagan- the one eyed girl who’d died to the Hungry Choir.  It looked like they were getting stuff for the market that could be moved in daylight.

“Sweet Liberty,” Toadswallow greeted them, as he walked through the door.  He was halfway gunked up, wearing a form that blurred the line between goblin and human.  He put his arms out, and Liberty ran into a hug.

“Uncle Toady.  You’re so big!”

“Heard you were in.  Warms the cockles of my heart and other body parts, seeing you well,” he said.

“Is Bubbleyum around?” Liberty asked.

“Still with her practitioner.  They’re wanting to pass her to his boy.  We’re debating what we’ll do.”

“If you say we need to raise a distraction, I’m all in, Uncle Toadie.”

“We’ll see, my girl.  Lucy, my dear, your crowd is upstairs, waiting.  You’re late, but it’s not like they can tell time.”

“Do you think you can slip into a convincing disguise?  One that will fool some goblins?” Lucy asked.

“What’s this about?” Liberty asked.

“A pair of glasses with a fake nose built into them would work, I figure,” Lucy said.  “Mostly.”

“I can disguise,” Liberty said.  “Gotta call my guys.  Sent them away when I was waiting for you.  I was worried they’d interrupt the afternoon lessons.”

And maybe she’d wanted more quiet and privacy while unloading.

Liberty called in her goblins, releasing some from item forms.

“Boring dress code appropriate, goblin-free princess!” Liberty shouted, before hurling down a smoke pellet.

A group of female goblins leaped into the cloud, bringing scraps of clothing.

“That’s a thing, huh?”

“Goal is to see if I can go so long using goblin princess outfit changes, I can legitimately tell someone I forgot how to dress myself!” Liberty raised her voice.  “Breaff-”

She mumbled for a second.

“Break their brains!” Liberty managed.

“Hobbies.”

“Keeps life interesting, and keeps my fashionistas sharp, making them work off-type.”

The cloud was clearing.

Liberty wore a navy blue polo shirt and plaid, pleated skirt that looked like a school uniform.  She smiled, and she’d had fake teeth put in, with colorful bits on the braces.  Hair without the shaved sides, no jewelry, no spiked collar.

“How boring am I?”

“You still have a charisma,” Lucy said.  She scrunched up her nose.  “It’s in the eyes.”

“Maybe reading glasses, hm,” Liberty mused.

“Might take you over the line to nerdy chic.  Come on up.”

“I’ll be back, Toadsie,” Liberty said.

Toadswallow smiled at them as they walked upstairs.  He winked at Lucy, using the eye with a squarish bit of glass set into the socket as today’s monocle to do it.  Eyelid and eye socket scrunched closed over the glass, then resisted for a second before scraping out past the corners.

It was pretty obvious to anyone who knew anything about what Toadswallow was doing, now.  Wearing the gunk, going between forms, playing the long game.  The market was bustling, and even with the recovery phase and the obstacles in the way, like the number of people who’d felt reluctant to try again after the loss of the market the first time, they were better than ever.

It had grown, and now Toadswallow was capable of growing with it.

“So what is this?” Liberty asked.

Some goblins were following them up the stairs.  The Liberty goblin magnetism in effect.

“It’s a little hobby of mine.  Kinda ties back to what we were talking about,” Lucy replied.  “You guys can come, but you’ve gotta be good.  No interfering, positive vibes, don’t give our guest away.”

There were some nods.

She got her guitar free of the case, and pulled it out, grabbing spell cards from an inner pocket that also held spare strings and a little booklet.  She fished out her phone and went to video mode.  “Can you be on camera duty?”

“I’m usually the one on camera.  This should be interesting.  Yeah, I’m down to clown.”

Lucy peeked around the corner.

Nine goblins and one non-goblin were gathered on the ‘stage’ in the room at the end of the hall, upstairs.  It had been a prison before, and the dusty floors still had traces of the chalk lines.  Another thirty or so little goblins were amassed in a crowd.

Spell card on John’s old guitar.  Spell card at her throat.

When she strummed, it had vibes like an electric guitar.  The runes of the diagram fanned out and some complementary percussion rolled out in the wake of the riff.

The goblins squealed and roared.

“Welcome, gnats, brats, slobs, and gobs,” Lucy said.  The spell card had its amplification too.  A bit of an announcer voice.  “To today’s episode of Beast of the Least!”

She stepped through the door, and the goblins scrambled to line up.

Some other goblins were at the edges of the room, and cheered.

“Woo!” Liberty crowed.  Downplaying the ‘Liberty’-ness of it, while still sounding excited.  Lucy played music.

“It looks like we’ve got ten today, including our long-time player, Rockin’ Cherrypop, rage of the ‘possum Goblin Sage, forking awesome!”

Cherrypop roared, hands thrust over head.

“My girl the toad rider, eater of spiders, master of the bumpy ride on her jumping pride.”

She had a name saved for the goblin, but the deal had been to wait a year.  Wartwat was the chinless toad-loving little one who Lucy had taken note of before they’d gone to fight Charles.  The toad had grown several sizes larger, fed on Warrens bugs and lots of TLC from the little goblin.  Wartwat, or the goblin that would be named Wartwat, was the reason Lucy had started to do this in the first place. It had started out as challenges, and then she’d kept building it up.

Verona had said ‘Cameltoad’, but it had been taken, and Lucy wasn’t a fan anyway.

“We have Spoo, digger, heapling of the Kennet-vicinity Warrens.  Leave him to his own devices, he’ll move dirt.  That’s what he does.  He’s dirty and plays dirty, wielding his namesake spoo.”

Heaplings were actually a variant of goblins.  Common Warrens ‘wildlife’.  They tended to just dig holes or pile stuff up, but could inadvertently terraform Warrens areas to be more goblin-comfortable, or extend, maintain, or create and expand little holes to the Warrens when they found their way to the Innocent world.  Spoo was so crusted in mud and dirt his hair stuck out in six different directions.  He’d made his own shovel out of a broken spoon, thus the name.

“We have our returning player Pistoldew, who is a fairy in disguise-”

“Ack!” was the tiny, alarmed response.

“-According to scurrilous-” and true “-rumors circulating Kennet.  Rumors I suspect she’ll deny.”

“Scurious!” Pistildew protested.  She was covered in almost as much mud as Spoo, and wore a tattered dress, with the tips of her wasp wings poking out the bottom, near her ankles.

“She’s fierce, I can definitely say she’s brave, a secret favorite.”

Toadswallow funded some of the prizes just to know what was going on there.  Eighth court research, in a way.

“And we have four returning nameless goblins of the least tier, and two new ones.  Will today be the day they win a name along with their share of today’s prizes?  Will the ones with names earn titles?  Who will be today’s Beast of the Least?”

She played a riff on the guitar.

“Put your war faces on!  Give me your loudest war cries!”

The little goblins and fairy did.  She followed with another riff before pausing to speak again.

“Give me your happy shouts, like you won already!”

They cheered.  Pistoldew hugged Cherrypop while jumping up and down, and got shoved over onto her rear end.

Lucy played the rest of the riff.  The ‘theme music’ for her little game show here.

“I’ve got two challenges for you guys today,” Lucy told them.  “But before that, if you remember, we start off every Beast of the Least episode with a task I asked you to do.  Who remembered?  Go, go!”

Some did remember.  Cherrypop included.  Others scrambled.  Spoo ran in a circle.

“It’s a show and tell, and you’re supposed to bring something badass.  If you didn’t remember or weren’t here last week, go find something now!  Points for being fast and having something good!  You have five minutes!”

Spoo immediately started prying at the floorboards with his little shovel.  Others fled the room.  Some other Least goblins followed, looking to see what would happen.

Off to the side, Smudge and Snowdrop were at the window, just eyes and ears poking up, barely high enough to look through.  Lucy had kicked them out a few weeks ago for distracting the contestants- like Liberty might have, if she’d come in her usual style.  She’d sometimes call one or both in later to keep the hype up.

Lucy strummed randomly at the strings while reaching over to tap the phone, turning off the video.

“Done?” Liberty asked.

“Give them time, we’ll pick it back up,” Lucy said.  “It’s training, a bit, you know?  Training memory, week to week.  And it works.”

“For sure.  That’s fun.  You seem to be enjoying yourself.”

“It’s dumb.  It’s small.  You know, there’s a ton of stuff I could be doing.  Except, like you were saying how goblins are malleable.  Well, I got to thinking, wouldn’t it be cool to raise up the lowest tier goblins?”

“Get a few on board, others will start to copy, picking it up.  It ripples out,” Liberty said.

“We’re defined by how we treat the least of us.  So this is a thing I do.”

“What do you do with it?  Unlisted video on Woobtube?”

“Different site.  Some Aware check it out.  I submit it to the Kennet found TV, if it’s a good episode.  They have a lot of channels.  I think I might get a few hundred viewers at most, that way.”

“You know the Goblin Game?” Liberty asked.

“A bit.  Comes up now and then.”

“Reality TV with elimination.  Except it’s pretty brutal elimination, and the survivors aren’t that well off either.  If they weren’t goblin to start, they’re pretty goblin by the end.  People with bad karma, or goblins looking to make a name for themselves, sometimes people that don’t deserve it at all.  That stopped for a bit, but picked up again when Gerhild’s influence spread.  One of those things.”

“Hmm.”

“They’re always looking for segments.  They’ll put six people on a dinghy sailing down the digestive tract of a colossal Warrensbeast, with minigames along the way, for anti-acid potions, or to not have parasites with their scent released into the fluids behind them.  But in the duller moments, they’ll go over to mini-segments.  Stuff like this would be great.  Depends how much you polish it.”

“Do I really want to contribute to something like that, though?”

“You could influence it.  Change things,” Liberty said.  “Push back against the viciousness by doing something charming.  I sorta try to.”

Lucy considered.

“Think about it?”

“I am,” Lucy murmured.  “Is it okay if this isn’t… trying to change the world?  If I focus on their world, something smaller?  It’s a chance to play random music and make up challenges and games.  It makes them happy.  Gets spectators.”

“Hey.  I get that.  I live that.”

Wartwat had put a bikini she’d made on her toad, while wearing a matching one.

Cherrypop had picked a rock.  Of course.

“What we were talking about before?” Lucy asked, her voice low.  Goblins milled around the room, but none seemed to be listening.  “About our place in the world.”

“Yeah?”

“I think we’re really similar, Libs.  I think on a level, we figured out who we wanted to be pretty early on.  Verona did too, but it’s a little different.  I’m thinking, like, we defined a style.  We wanted to defy the world.  Because the world can be kinda shit.”

“Really shit,” Liberty confirmed.

“It’s kinda backwards, though.  Because we’ve hit points where we kinda need to find ourselves after all that.  After we defined ourselves, after we fought our battles, showed our enemies and detractors what’s what.  I made a style I thought was bulletproof, and aside from shifting things a bit to get my own clothes made or buy local instead of buying from sweatshops, I mostly kept to that.  Became a good fighter who can hold my ground.  But then I thought, well, what do I want to be now?  Where do I go from there?”

“Anywhere you damn well want?” Liberty asked.

“Maybe.  Sorta.  Except it’s not that simple.  If you’re fierce enough or your name’s good enough or you’ve got enough backup you can go just about anywhere and do anything… there’s no borders.  No limits except your own exhaustion. Kinda ran into that.”

“Sure, yeah.”

“Easy to flounder like that.  Too many options.  So I did some digging and one thing I wanted was to be like my big brother.  Wanted to earn his respect, for when we clue him in.  After he graduates University, my mom says.  And being a big sister, someone who champions the weak?”

“Got you here.”

“Was a chunk of it,” Lucy said, watching the goblins.

“Don’t have to convince me.  I love that shit.  Making the goblins better, empowered.  I might admittedly neglect the Least tier ones, though I’m considering a separate, competitive Beast of the Least tournament now.”

“Not competitive, please?  Because I’ll want to meet that challenge, there’ll be bad feelings, it’ll stop being what I need it to be.”

“Cooperative.  Collaborative.”

“Sure.  Maybe, yeah.”  Lucy pointed at Spoo.  He’d succeeded in prying up nails from the floorboards with his digging tool.

“Go, Spoo!” Liberty shouted.

Some goblins joined in, cheering for Spoo.  Cheering for others.  Cherrypop held her rock overhead.

“I realized I’m a bit of a control freak,” Lucy said.

“No, really?” Liberty asked.

“Leaning into that?  I’m doing spreadsheets, managing funds, scheduling.  Avery, Verona and I are figuring out how to divide duties.  That’s is where I’m more comfortable.  I like feeling like I’m moving pieces into place, being reliable.  Sword Moot, Law, procedure, council meetings.  I work on this balance that gives me more than it takes.”

“That is so not me.  And you say we’re alike?”

“I want to focus more on combat, staying relevant with training, but with Bubbleyum gone, and no more Guilherme, it’s hard.”

“My dad?”

“I- like I said before.  Complicated when he’s a prisoner.  I couldn’t ask.”

“So let me ask instead of you.  He wants to, I’m sure.”

“Maybe.”  It got complicated if it meant taking Anthem out of Kennet found, where violence was prohibited.  Instead of getting into that, Lucy said, “Related to all that, kind of, is the justice side of things.  I think the place we’re keeping Kira-Lynn, the others, it’s brutal, it’s dark.  She can’t really change without wanting to change and seeing someone need that much help and refuse it is… it’s awful.  Verona doesn’t like it, it reminds her of bad things.  It affects Avery’s mood.  So I handle that, check on that.”

“Thank you for sparing Avery’s mood,” Liberty said.

Lucy wasn’t sure how to respond to that without irritating Liberty or calling out stuff.  So she kept going as if Liberty hadn’t said anything.  “Verona has higher tolerances with some other stuff, I trust her to be a mediating force for figuring out if, say, hollow practitioners are legit, when I’d be more bothered by the ones who don’t pass vetting.  Avery got anxious earlier, feeling like she’s too far away, but I like having outside eyes.  We keep reassuring her.  I think today she was just off her game.”

“Yyyep.”

“Sorry.”

“No.  I really did mean it when I said I’m mostly over the crush.  It’s one piece of other stuff, really.”

“Libs,” Lucy said.  “We’re teenagers.  We aren’t supposed to have a lock on identity, or have a place in the world we’ll occupy for the rest of our lives.  We’re supposed to be exploring, and restless, and disjointed, and figuring it all out.  We’re supposed to be a bit horny, we’re supposed to fall in and out of friendships, and hopefully figure out the good ones.”

“You know, my virgin ass isn’t even that horny, as much as I might tease?” Liberty asked, voice low.  “Don’t tell those guys.”

Indicating the goblins.

“If it comes it’ll come.  Like, I can be a judgmental bitch sometimes, but I’m not going to judge you there.  Do what feels right to you.”

“That’s the plan, I guess.”

“Like, I really wanted a boyfriend for a bit.  Got one, obsessed over some stuff.  Now I’m taking a break.  Feels kinda screwy, when most of the guys I would date, they’re Aware or complicated, and I’m here with power and local clout, and… nah.”

“Looking to date a practitioner?”

“Maybe if the right one came along.”

“What if I took a potion, switched to the phallic side of the fence, and became your boyfriend?  Solution to our problems right there.  You get me to stay in town, get a boyfriend, I get to shuck this pesky virginity with you…”

“I’m into the boy part of boys, Liberty, not the anatomy you’d be taking a potion to get.  And I get the impression you’re a girl through and through, sorry if I’m wrong.”

“No, you’re damn right.”

“Wouldn’t feel right.”

“Damn.  But it could feel the best sorts of wrong,” Liberty said, leaning into Lucy briefly.

“Okay, alright, getting sidetracked.”

“Occupational hazard.  I’ll keep an eye out for practitioner boys for you, how’s that?”

“I- I worry what those recommendations would look like.”

Liberty cackled.

Lucy could hear Grandfather downstairs.  Talking to Toadswallow.

“Hey,” Lucy told Liberty.  “Relax.  You seem lonely, you want to be close to your dad.  Accept no fit will be one hundred percent right until you hammer some stuff out… and come here to Kennet for a bit, until you get that hammering done.”

“Okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Lucy checked the time, then put the paper back at her throat.  Then she began playing her guitar.  “Tick tock!  Head on back if you’re not in the room!  Goblins, shout, let’s hurry them up!”

The little mob of goblins roared and cheered.

Grandfather came up the stairs in dog form.  A collection of little goblins rode on his back, holding onto tufts of fur.  He was a mastiff, with gray in his fur, and a jowly face, and didn’t even flinch at the goblins poking, pulling, and climbing around on top of him.

Lucy opened up the familiar bond.  She’d gone with something a little more distinct than Avery and Snowdrop’s fully open one.  It meant that if Grandfather had to place a bullet like John had with Alexander, Lucy could close the door, and let that happen without having to carry it.

Plus there were some minor things like the fact Lucy was a fifteen year old teenager who wasn’t far off from being a grown woman and he was a guy and it was nice to be able to shut that door to her everything for privacy’s sake.  Avery’s familiar being a wild animal meant some things went over Snowdrop’s head or just didn’t matter.  It had made Lucy’s mom feel a bit better about the familiar bond when Lucy had explained it.

He settled in behind her, shaking slightly until the goblins climbed off their ride.  He slumped down onto the floor, behind her, and, curled up around the back and side of her leg, set his jowly face down on her thigh, sighing.  The dog tags at his collar jangled.

Lucy had to move the guitar a bit to not bonk him in the face with it.  She pulled the paper away from her neck.  “Not even going to switch to being human to say hi, Grandfather?”

He opened his eyes momentarily, sending a brief signal, then closed them.

Lucy closed her eyes too.

She took in a deep breath, and at the same time, pulled on the familiar bond.  He’d been on patrols, had talked to people, had handled stuff.  Nothing major.  She’d made a promise that this would be about rest and building something, not the endless fight, and that she’d delegate, and he was happy to be part of that delegation, so long as she kept the first part of that promise.

In joining her in the familiar bond, he’d grown a bit to meet her at that halfway point.  He’d grown into abilities he’d had from the start and then had nurtured as he’d collected kills.  Except he hadn’t needed to kill for this growth.  He was a tactician, a keen eye, and a calm spirit.

Drawing on that tactician side of him, the patrols, and everything else, she was able to drink in his awareness of the territory.  Kennet at peace, for the time being.  She was able to get a wordless briefing on everything from the patrols and the reports he’d gotten from other Dog Tags.  Almost a detailed map of Kennet’s perimeter, spiritual activity, levels of defense, and the state of the shrines he’d visited.

“Good,” she said.  She kept playing.  “Thank you.”

The response was a wordless confirmation.

She responded with the report about Gerhild.  The shadow on the horizon, the stirrings of goblindom, the impressions she’d gotten.  She noted Nomi’s visit, the state of the prison cell Kira-Lynn was in, the rehab.  Stuff closer to home.

Confirmation from his end.

He shifted position, his body curved to rest against her as he pressed in closer, alongside a sense that he just wanted to sleep.

“It’s going to be fucking loud, Grandfather.  Loud with goblins crawling on you.”

The response was a single-note encapsulation of ‘I can sleep through an open firefight’.

She let him rest.

Strumming, she counted heads.  She gave Liberty a small nod.  Liberty resumed recording.

“And we’re back.  Our candidates are lined up, and they have their showcases.  Right off the bat, we’ve got Spoo, with the nails.”

Spoo brandished the nails.

“That’s sort of badass, but it’s a little mundane.  I think you get points for effort, getting those out of a wooden floor.  Hey, you, human.”

“Me?” Liberty asked.

“How would you rate it, three points?  Five?  Ten?”

“Six points.  Big points for digging it out of wood, and nails are sharp.”

“Six points sounds great to me,” Lucy said.  “Then we have Cherrypop.  She’s got a rock, let’s hear what’s special about that rock.”

“Or what do you like about it?”

“It’s a rock from- from far away!  John gave it to me!  It’s from a battlefield!”

Grandfather’s eyes opened.  Orange-red eyes on his black furred face with its inconsistent gray streaks looked at Cherrypop and the rock.

“That’s so on point, it’s almost cheating,” Lucy said.

“Cheating is winning!” Cherrypop crowed.

“It’s a gift you got from John, and if you were trying to pull on my heartstrings, that’s a pretty good sucker punch.”

“Pow?” Cherrypop asked, not really getting it, apparently.  “I’m not smart.  I’m dumb and useless.”

“Hey, for what it’s worth, Cherry,” Lucy said.  “I gotta say, you picked a pretty good rock for showing off something badass.  What do you think, guest?  Rock from a far away battlefield.”

“I think that’s a winner.  Eight points.”

“I was going to say nine, but let’s go with eight.”

Cherrypop thrust her fists over her head.

Lucy scratched Grandfather behind the ear.  “Bringing us to Pistoldew…”

They went through the other showcases, most terrible, but points could be given for those who’d remembered to hunt for something since last week.  Lucy tallied up points.  When she did it up as a video later, she’d give it a graphic.

Then the first of two challenges.  Working in pairs to build something.  A fake poop, a fake dick, fake boobs.

The goal wasn’t to weed out the losers, but to make everyone a winner, to give them incentives to work, to develop skills, to find themselves.  It wasn’t ‘fair’. It was biased, and most of that bias went to making them feel better.  So the challenge was rigged.  Cherrypop, who struggled at a lot of stuff, and Spoo, who kind of only did one thing reasonably well, were both builders.  Cherrypop from the slide, Spoo otherwise.

They’d do well together, as a pair.  So the points would stay roughly even, there’d be big wins for losers to come up from behind.  An energy she wanted all the lesser goblins and others of Kennet to pick up on.

Shadow on the horizon?

How cool would it be if, by the time Gerhild rocked up on Kennet, their ‘least’ goblins were on or nearly on the level of Gerhild’s ‘lesser’ goblins, who were supposed to be the next step up?

Building something better.  Doing something semi-random and not- not pointless, but not optimally pointful either.

She played more guitar as the goblins built, rune-altered to have more twang and distortion.

“I’m breaking up with you,” Nora told her.

Avery’s heart sank, despite her efforts to hold it together.

“At this point, you’ve messed with me too much.  I’m too anxious a person.  I can’t take it.”

Avery stood behind Nora, hands over Nora’s eyes.

“In my head, when I imagined doing this, I thought it’d take way less steps than it took.”

“It’s been a few minutes.  I hear people.  It’s not my birthday, so it’s not a surprise party.  Why do I hear trains?” Nora asked.  “Is there even a train in Thunder Bay?”

“There are a bunch,” Avery said.  “It’s a hub.”

She’d had to look it up for city magic diagram work.

“Wind in my hair,” Nora said.  “Trying to logic this out.  If it’s a fan on in a house and it’s a surprise party and the trains were on TV or something, I’m going to feel like a massive dork.  I’ll be mad.”

“Here.  Step down… there.  And sit?  Slow?” Avery asked.

She kept her hands over Nora’s eyes as Nora eased her way to a sitting position on the stairs.

“This is nice,” Nora said, as they settled.  Avery sat on a stair above the one Nora sat on.  The stairs of the staircase were long and shallow, so Nora was basically sitting on flat ground, leaning back into Avery’s lower stomach and legs.

It was nice, on a lot of levels, but Avery stewed in a bunch of kinds of anxiety.

Like the fact Nora had even brought up breaking up like that.  Or being mad.  A part of Avery felt like even the threat of breaking up meant it was in Nora’s head as a possibility.

Which was, like, fair.

And she’d sent Snowdrop over to Kennet’s downtown to run an errand, and Snowdrop had gotten distracted by something to do with Lucy and goblins.  So that was taking a while.

Avery wondered if she’d put too much stock into imagining how this would go and by waiting on Snowdrop to have that imagined sequence of events in place, she was hurting the odds this would go okay.

She decided to bridge the gap.

“I’m ready to tell you the thing I’ve been putting off telling you,” Avery said.

“Oh,” Nora said.  “Not a surprise party then.”

“Nope.  For right this moment, it’s just you and me… and a little distance away, barely paying any attention to us, people going about their day.”

“I was going to say this was starting to seem nefarious.”

“Do you think I’m nefarious?” Avery asked.

“No.  Is this me putting my foot in my mouth again?” Nora asked.  “But a lot of serial killers seem okay to their victims.”

“Serial killer?” Avery asked.  “I’ve gone from what, secret viral internet celebrity to spy to superhero all the way to serial killer, now?”

“I don’t know!  I don’t want to be the girl who gets shown in a documentary, letting herself be led for fifteen minutes to a secret killing spot, while the audience is screaming ‘idiot!’ at her.”

“This isn’t a killing spot.  Not that many people died here.”

Nora reached up, pulling at Avery’s hands to pull them down, while moving her head.

“Stop, stop, I’m only sorta poking fun.  Stop, hold on,” Avery protested.

“Just tell me.  Please.”

“Okay,” Avery said.  “But don’t freak out.”

“That’s a freak-out thing to say!”

“Stay put, wait, seriously.  Don’t run off.”

“That’s weird!”

Not as planned, exactly.

She dropped her hands, and moved her arms, leaning forward, to hug Nora around the shoulders, while sitting just behind her.

The Promenade was out there, tiles light blue, dark blue, black, and white, the trains black, with lights shining so bright out the windows that they had beams with crisp edges and ignited dust and smoke, making the dust motes and smoke glow like white embers, burning off.  The Lost were wearing the shades of the Promenade, suits and ties and shirts in dark blues, light blues, white, and black.  A schoolmistress led a centipede of children across the grid, weaving around the crowd.

Nora’s hands, up at Avery’s wrist and forearm, from when she’d been pulling them down, squeezed.

“You like your eco-friendly witch punk rock girl from that video?” Avery asked, squeezing Nora’s shoulders, which made Nora squeeze tighter.  “How about some real magic?”

“If you faked all of this, and you took months and months to set this up, while leaving me squirming and wondering?  Holograms, props, actors, I think I’m okay with that.”

“And if it’s real?”

“I’m more okay with that,” Nora said.  Her hands gripped Avery’s arm and wrist like her life depended on it.

“Had a lot to do, to get things to where I felt okay bringing you in,” Avery said.  “Other stuff got in the way.  I got shot, during all that.”

“That injury at your hip?” Nora asked.

“Yeah.  Yeah, I couldn’t bring you in, while all that was going on.  Fought a goddess, pulled a piece of metal out of her.  Went up against a real asshole who wanted to drive me and a lot of other cool people out of the area.  Fought a giant hostile dimension-traveling mega corporation to keep this place free and clear of their control.”

“Talking about evil megacorps somehow makes this feel a lot more real.  Screw those guys.  I don’t know anything about them, but screw them,” Nora said.

“I’m not the biggest fan.  My family kinda found out about magic by accident, one by one, or one by two, or whatever.  So we’re forging a new Kelly family of magic users.”

“I’m not sure if that makes your family make more or less sense to me.”

“Hmm,” Avery said, leaning into Nora some.  “They only really started finding out partway through your visit on Christmas.”

“Huh.”

“And also, your family  is super weird too.”

“So weird.”

“Had to sort that out.  Dry test run, basically, before bringing in others.  But it didn’t feel right when, like, we were still in the early weeks and months of dating.  When other stuff was going on.  I fought a tyrant who wanted to force a niece of his into marriage, girl our age, wanted to control the region.”

“Why does everyone want the region?”

“Dunno.  One of the last few places that people don’t have dibs on, that are relatively nice to live in.  Long, long history of practitioners- magic users, moving in and taking over.  Controlling the Others.  The ghosts and goblins and stuff.”

“I believe it,” Nora said.  “Part of being an eco goth witch punk is knowing that stuff’s always out there, always needs to be pushed back against.”

Nora was playing things up a bit, which she did when she felt insecure.

Still had a death grip on Avery’s arm and wrist.

Avery leaned forward, and, pressing lips against Nora’s neck, also got ahold of Nora’s necklace, which was strung with chalky hard candies.  Avery bit off one, and sighed, front against Nora’s back.  She gave Nora’s neck another kiss, then kinda settled, hunched over awkwardly, chin on Nora’s shoulder.

Nora’s grip relaxed a bit.

“Questions?” Avery asked.

“I can’t tell if I don’t have any and if I’m okay taking this in, or if I have five thousand questions but they all want to come out at once, and they’re jammed.”

A train car unloaded.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m not sure.  The mentions of scary stuff and fighting…”

“I really truly wanted this to be a good thing for you.  I only mentioned that because I wanted you to know I wasn’t keeping it from you just because.”

Nora nodded slowly, and didn’t reply.  She did let go of Avery’s wrist, and reached up to put her candy necklace in her mouth.  Avery could only really see the back of Nora’s head, or along the sides, when she turned her head slightly, but she could tell the string of the necklace was sticking out either corner of Nora’s mouth, while she chewed the candy free of it.

“My name is Avery Kelly.  Second witch of Kennet.”

“Your friends are others?”

“Yeah.  I’m a Finder and Path runner.  I explore nonsense places.  I can travel across the world in less than an hour.  I can teleport.  I can fall from any height and be okay.  I bargain with fairies, ghosts, and goblins.  I can draw triangles and circles and make fire or wind.  But I’m Avery Kelly.  I’m gooey marshmallow goofy, as Verona put it earlier, for my quiet girlfriend with loud drums and weird family and a thing for seals.  Really, really hoping she’s still my girlfriend.”

“I could be convinced,” Nora said, still with the string in her mouth.

“Oh yeah?” Avery asked, she smiled a bit.  She squeezed Nora more.  “You could be convinced?”

“Tight hugs help.”

“Can oblige,” Avery said.

They watched and waited for a bit.

Sheridan and Declan had come at her with question after question.  The parents had had questions.  The Aware classmates had.  This felt different.

“All the things I can do, there were times I wanted to give it up, hang out with you.  I didn’t want to give it up because things got so bad.  I wanted it because this is good.  I can go to places like this, but I wanted time with you more, even sitting on your couch, our hands touching when your mom wasn’t looking.”

“Things got that bad, huh?”

“Yeah.  I can tell you later.  My soul feels like parts of it are still pretty worn down or threadbare, I think.  Even after more than half a year.”

“I asked a question online, once.  Theorizing.  Didn’t want to ask my dad, in case he didn’t let me go on another vacation with you.  Didn’t want to ask Putnam in case it got around school.”

“Putnam’s better than that.”

“Yeah.  Still.  Better safe than sorry.  For a while, seeing you that worn down, hurting.  I thought maybe it was abuse or something bad, maybe with a settlement?  It would explain why you couldn’t share, and why you were getting attention and had money.  I didn’t like seeing you that way.”

“I’m sorry I kept you wondering.”

“Well,” Nora said.  “I didn’t get anywhere close to this.”

“Are you okay?  Are we okay?”

“We’re okay,” Nora said.

“Do you kinda get it?  Why I had to?  Because if not, I can explain.”

“I kinda get it.  Explanations can wait.  This is nice.”

Avery nodded.

Snowdrop was coming at a pell-mell run, which was precarious, given her cargo.

Avery moved her hand, lifted Nora’s chin, and leaned forward, into Nora, to kiss her a bit upside-down.  It was horribly awkward, position-wise, but it was still a kiss.

She felt a bit like she was in shock.  She’d been braced for disaster, because being un-braced when disaster happened would’ve destroyed her, possibly putting Nora at risk in the process.  If Nora ran off into the Promenade without an escape rope?  Without knowing the rules?  Disaster hadn’t happened, and Avery’s feelings were giddy, light, and not connecting to one another or to her, fully.  Like camera flashes from paparazzi, dissolving into uneasy warmth.

“Hey,” Avery said.

“Hey.”

“Look.  That way,” Avery told Nora, pointing.  It took some doing, because again, angles, and position.  Nora wasn’t looking at the outstretched arm at first.

“Recognize her?” Avery asked.

“Octavia.”

Snowdrop had slowed to a walk, carrying a box.

“Snowdrop, actually.”

“The… opossum?  Oh.”

“Familiar.  Like a witch’s black cat.  She’s mine.  Pretend she’s saying the opposite of what she’s actually saying.”

Snowdrop set the box down beside Avery, and brandished some utensils she’d swiped from somewhere.  “I don’t want any.”

Avery leaned over, squeezing her knees and calves at Nora’s sides to anchor herself while doing so, to keep from tipping over.  Opening the paper box with ‘Yeast Inception’ branded on the top.

“Chocolate is bad for opossums,” Snowdrop said.

“It might actually be, Snow.”

“Ugh,” Snowdrop said, as she looked at Nora.  “This is a disappointment.”

Nora frowned.

“You’re still here, and that’s just plain awful.”

“If I give you some cake, will you stop making things confusing?” Avery asked.

Snowdrop became an opossum.

“Heyyy,” Nora greeted her.  She reached out a hand, and Snowdrop, walking forward, butted her side into that reaching hand.  She cooperated with being picked up and moved to Nora’s lap.

Avery focused on the cake, tearing off sections of the box lid to act as makeshift plates.  “Cake is because we promised.”

“I’ll never object to cake.”

“Don’t tell your mom.”

“I’m not telling her I’m gay until after I move out.  I’m definitely not telling her my girlfriend’s an interdimensional magic warrior.”

“Don’t tell her about the cake, I mean.”

“That either.  She might be happier with you being an interdimensional magic warrior than she would be about this cake.  What is that, triple chocolate?  Ooh.”

“Thanks for your patience, for putting up with things, during the wait,” Avery said.

“Wasn’t always easy.  I worried.  I lost sleep.  I jumped to wrong conclusions that had me feeling sick at the idea you might be in trouble, you looked so chewed up and tired.”

“Yeah,” Avery murmured.  “Really truly wouldn’t have if there were better options.”

“You’re pretty worth it though,” Nora said.  “The bonus opossum helps too.”

Snowdrop made a sneezing sound.

“Cake, then… up to you.  Could retreat to normal.  Could, dunno, go to my place, I could show you the notebooks, answer however many questions you have, about what happened, what’s what, terminology.  Or we could go for a walk, tour some realms and Paths.”

“I’d rather experience it and be in it, than read about it.”

Avery smiled.

She, she figured, if the tables were turned, would want the same.

That was good.

Since the new year and the fight with Charles over January, she’d been dogged by flashes, of the Wolf taunting her, of Musser, of the Family Man dying, of Charles, of everything.  Vivid and real.  January through to September, feeling a bit guarded.

It was crowded out, a bit, by this.  It had to exist on the fringes of this moment.

She served up the cake, with a bit for Snowdrop to chew on, still with Nora sitting between her legs.  A promise of fantastical exploration with two people she loved with her, her family backing her.  With those things, weights and shadows lifted, the tattered, tired parts of her, the parts worn down by facing down Wonderkand and working with her family, something had shifted.

All the Paths had these warnings.  Many of the items had them too.  Do this, fall off this Path, screw up here, fail to have the right countermeasures… you’d be Lost.  Cast out, so disconnected from everything you wouldn’t even remember yourself.

Avery felt the opposite of Lost, like this.